


#4 - Infinity

by TastyBrownies



Series: Rambles [4]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, I Hate School So Much, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Inspired by a Movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-05 17:18:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10313231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TastyBrownies/pseuds/TastyBrownies
Summary: And in this moment, we are infinite





	

**Author's Note:**

> I watched The Perks of Being A Wallflower, and the quote just stuck with me (as well as the tears).

_“…I know these will all be stories someday. And our pictures will become old photographs. We'll all become somebody's mom or dad. But right now, these moments are not stories. This is happening… I can see it. This one moment when you know you're not a sad story. You are alive, and you stand up and see the lights on the buildings and everything that makes you wonder. And you're listening to that song and that drive with the people you love most in this world. And in this moment I swear, we are infinite.”_

 

“And how does that make you feel?” The make-believe psychologist asks inside my head.

“I dunno,” I respond, chuckling awkwardly. “Happy?” I shrug. “What’s the definition of happy?” I turn to my fingers as they diligently type in the google search bar: definition of happy.

Happy – 

_adjective  
_

feeling or showing pleasure or contentment.

“But that’s not accurate, is it?” I say, more to myself than to the make-believe psychologist. “But I’m not sad either, right?”

“No, I don’t believe you are.” They take over, pushing their glasses up their nose while perusing an old dictionary.

“Sad – _adjective_. feeling or showing sorrow; unhappy.”

“No, that’s not quite right.” I decide.

“Perhaps it’s nostalgia, then.” Says the hidden philosopher in the depths of my mind.

“Nostalgia?” I turn to them, confused.

“Yes, nostalgia – _noun_. a sentimental longing or wistful affection for the past, typically for a period or place with happy personal associations.”

“But,” I blink, trying to gather my thoughts, “How can it be nostalgia if it’s something I never had?”

“Perhaps,” Appears the old author from the deepest reaches of what one would call my ‘soul’, “It is yearning.”

“Yearning?” I say, outraged. Such a confusing word for such a confusing feeling – “You are not making things any easier, author.” I exclaim.

“Allow me to explain.” They say hastily, grabbing a random book from a shimmering make-believe bookshelf. “Yearning – _noun_. a feeling of intense longing for something.”

“No, I disagree.” I fold my hands over my chest. “I simply disagree with you all.” I sigh, because I’m even more lost than I was before.

“And maybe,” A small voice in my head suggests, one that I cannot yet name, “Maybe that’s just exactly what it is. Infinite.”

“Infinite?”

“Infinite –“ They all recite together. “ _adjective._ limitless or endless in space, extent, or size; impossible to measure or calculate.”

“Yes.” I rest my hands on my knees, ready to finally call it a night. “Yes, I think that’s exactly what it is. _Infinite._ ”


End file.
